


Family of Three

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have a son now. How much will Sherlock have to change his life?</p><p>I got some angst in my fluff. It happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family of Three

**Author's Note:**

> It  was suggested I write parentlock based on this [art ](http://willietheplaidjacket.tumblr.com/post/52899020733/what-what-another-request-basically-im)by willietheplaidjacket

John washed dishes and smiled from the kitchen as he watched Hamish toddle unsteadily across the sitting room to where Sherlock sat on the floor, buried in a book.  “Dada?” He put out a hand, touching Sherlock’s face and earning a look of surprise.

Sherlock studied the little boy. Hamish grinned under his father’s attention and threw himself into his lap, knocking the book to the floor. Sherlock awkwardly put at arm around Hamish and settled him on his leg before picking up the book again and reading aloud.

Raising an eyebrow, John put down his towel. “Here, why don’t you read him this? I don’t think he’s quite ready for _The Compendium of Tropical Diseases_.” He fetched one of the children’s books Mrs. Hudson had brought up.

“ _Berenstein Bears_? How does intelligent bipedal bear society operate?”

John sighed and kissed the top of his head. “Just read it to him.” He leaned down a little further and kissed the top of Hamish’s head too, making the boy giggle.

As he turned back for the kitchen, Hamish caught the leg of his jeans. “Papa.”

John looked down at Hamish’s bright eyes. Shaking his head, he sat down next to Sherlock on the floor. Hamish stretched out across both their laps, watching them. John kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “Go on, he likes it when you read.” Unconsciously he tousled Hamish’s hair.

Hamish stuck a thumb in his mouth as he watched Sherlock read to him. John didn’t think anything could be more perfect, especially when Sherlock started doing the voices for each bear differently. His heart swelled with love for his family as he rested his head against Sherlock’s shoulder.

Sherlock’s phone buzzed just as he finished the book. Hamish’s eyes were closed, so John carefully picked him up, looking at Sherlock. “Case?” he kept his voice quiet.

“Yes.” Sherlock’s mind was clearly already going.

Shifting Hamish, John grabbed the teddy bear off the couch. “I’ll take him down to Mrs. Hudson.”

Mrs. Hudson was happy to take him, even as Hamish clung to John’s jumper sleepily. John kissed his cheek and pulled his chubby hands free. “Your Dad and I will be back before you know it,” he promised, heart clutching as he looked at the little boy. Hamish had been an orphan once already, John would make sure it wouldn’t happen to him again.

“You just be careful,” said Mrs. Hudson, as if reading John’s mind. She rocked Hamish gently as she stepped back into her flat.

“I will,” said John.

Sherlock had a cab ready for them as John stepped out into the drizzle.  Sherlock was texting, John guessed with Lestrade, keeping quiet as they headed across London. John pulled out his own phone. The wallpaper was a picture Mrs. Hudson had taken right after they got Hamish, the little boy grinning as he perched in Sherlock’s lap, Sherlock looking as if he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, let alone a child, and John laughing at the both of them. Only two months ago, and already he couldn’t imagine his life not having Hamish in it.

They pulled up to the crime scene. Lestrade was apologetic. “I know you’re supposed to still be on leave…”

Sherlock waved him off. “Mrs. Hudson is more than capable of watching Hamish for an afternoon. Let’s see this body you’ve got.”

John stood back while Sherlock danced around the body, making his usual rapid fire deductions. “See changing a few nappies didn’t change him none,” muttered Anderson from behind Lestrade. “Or does he make you do it, Watson? Wear a dre…”

Anderson was cut off as Sherlock twisted his arm behind his back. John hadn’t even seen him move. “I strongly suggest you do not finish that sentence,” muttered Sherlock.

Anderson looked to his boss. Lestrade looked tiredly amused. “Think you better head back to the lab and look at those samples.”

Anderson grumbled as Sherlock let go. John was surprised by Sherlock’s reaction; then again, he’d been much tenser since Hamish had come into their life. Lestrade said nothing as Anderson retreated. Sherlock resumed investigating as if nothing had happened. Suddenly he pivoted and darted down an alley. With a sigh, John took off after him.

Catching a glimpse of Sherlock turning a corner, John tried to keep up. Coming around the bend, Sherlock was hoping a fence. “Oh for the love of…” he grumbled.

Finally he caught up with Sherlock down another alley. Sherlock was confronting someone. John reached for his gun, then realized it was still locked up at home. Cursing, John ran at the scene as a knife flashed in the afternoon light.

There was a flurry of limbs. John panted as Sherlock pinned the suspect up against the alley wall with one hand, texting with the other. “Lestrade will be here in a few moments,” said Sherlock as calmly as if he hadn’t just run five blocks and got into a fight.

Seething, John waited for Lestrade to arrive and take the man into custody. Sherlock kept his eyes on his phone as they arrived. John watched them arrest the man and waved off Lestrade’s offer of a ride home. As soon as they were alone in the alley he slapped the phone from Sherlock’s hand and shoved him up against the wall.

“John?” Sherlock looked down at him, struggling feebly.

“Don’t you ever, _ever_ , do that again,” growled John.

Sherlock’s eyes went wide at John’s wrath.  Struggling to control himself, John let go and stumbled back. “He could have stabbed you.”

“The suspect was barely a street thug, hardly capable of…”

“That’s not the point!” yelled John, fists balling. He turned away. “I know you can handle yourself. But there’s more than just you to think about now, isn’t there?”

“I see.” John could hear the defeat in Sherlock’s voice. “I will inform Lestrade then that I am no longer available for service.”

“What?” John turned back to Sherlock.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Sherlock asked, studying something on his coat.

John took a breath, then another. “No, it’s not.”

Sherlock looked at him. John stepped to him and cupped his face, pulling him down for a kiss. “Is that what you’ve been worried about?”

“You’ve been so happy, since we brought home Hamish…”

“I _am_ happy, you git. And I love you. I’m not asking you to give up your work. I’m just asking you to be a little more careful, that’s all.”

Sherlock stared at John’s face, then kissed him deeply. John smiled against the kiss. “Maybe Mrs. Hudson can babysit Hamish a little bit longer today.”

“I am certain she wouldn’t mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
